


Too Rough

by coolasdicks



Series: Too Rough!Verse [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, a lot of Michael coddling because I'm a horrible person who self indulges too much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 21:29:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolasdicks/pseuds/coolasdicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tackle in the office occurs and Michael ends up on the bottom of the dog pile. He cracks a rib but keeps quiet in fear of them being too careful around him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Rough

**Author's Note:**

> I am so so so so sorry. I just… i blame glackedandmullered for not only introducing me to the ship but also because her fics made me hunger for h/c featuring Michael. There’s a lot of fluff in this btw. Sickeningly sweet. Also, a sequel idea has already started to write itself
> 
> Originally on tumblr

Tackles and playful wrestling constantly broke out around the office, especially in the Achievement Hunter office, where the six gamers were in a polyamorous relationship. So it was no surprise to anyone when loud yelps and gleeful giggles erupted from the small room, fortunately behind the closed door.

“Michael – Michael, please!” Gavin was gasping dramatically, fending off the other man as best he could while laughing.

Michael, grin wide on his face, simply leapt on the Brit, pouncing and bringing them both to the floor. Geoff’s indignant call of, “Hey!” fell on deaf ears as the two wrestled, rolling around and attempting to dominate the other.

Gavin managed to roll himself on top, victoriously pecking Michael on the lips when the redhead was unable to break the hold. It wasn’t often Gavin won, but to be fair, the redhead was running on low energy, having recently suffered from a cold. He wasn’t fully recovered and was weak, tiredly allowing the taller man to pin his wrists to the carpet, grumbling slightly. Despite knowing that Gavin only won because he was still sick, Michael found it hard to completely relent to the man.

He swung his legs wildly, making contact with something solid a moment later. His smug grin vanished when he realized it was Geoff he’d kicked. Gray eyes glared at him over Gavin’s shoulder, a vengeful gleam glimmering in the smoky orbs.

“I didn’t, Geoff –!” Michael’s exclaim was cut short when Geoff sprung forward with a manic grin, squishing Gavin into Michael’s neck and chest, the Brit yelling with surprise. Geoff was giggling as his hands slipped down between where Gavin and Michael’s bodies were pressed together, managing to trigger both of the men’s tickle reflex

“What the hell is going on in here?”

All three man froze and glanced at the doorway, Michael’s soft wheeze from laughing too hard the only sound. Ryan was staring at the trio, closing the door behind him with a raised eyebrow.

“They’re having floor sex,” Jack said neutrally, chin in hand as he stared at the computer.

“I don’t know how you’re working with all the noise,” Ray commented to Jack as he reclined in his desk chair. He’d yet to touch the mouse, instead contently watching three of his boys with a small smile.

Ryan looked between them before grinning. Michael’s eyes watered when he sat down on Geoff’s back, only adding more weight to the pile.

“This is getting heavy,” Gavin huffed breathlessly. He held eye contact with Michael as he slid sneaking fingers under the redhead’s shirt to stroke the soft skin of his hips. Michael flushed and instantly began squirming.

The small wrestling match started up again and continued to get more and more rowdy. Geoff was now grappling intensely with Ryan. The last two boys, of course, couldn’t hold out for much longer and finally joined their partners on the floor, not partaking to the match quite as strongly but still playfully tugging on someone’s hair or nipping at a cheek when they got the chance.

It was pure misfortune that landed Michael on the bottom of the pile once more, this time having some serious trouble breathing. The weight of five grown men – or six, since Jack sort of counted for two – was pressing on his stomach, and Michael was starting to struggle with each breath. Not wanting to be a little bitch in front of his mates, he settled for gripping whoever was wiggling around on top of him – Geoff, as it turned out – and squeezed his upper arms in a weak warning.

With the chaos, miscommunication was bound to happen. Geoff must’ve thought he was still playing, because the tattooed man shifted forward to peck Michael on the cheek while firmly pressing the redhead’s hands against his chest.

Geoff’s lean forward caused the entire pile to shift forward, the center of gravity moving to settle on Michael’s torso. A lance of pain through his chest was Michael’s only warning before he felt an internal snap, a fierce flash of white-hot pain suddenly burning a hole into his right side. The sudden burst of agony sent spasms down Michael’s arms, but travelled sluggishly up his spinal cord, his brain seeming to take forever to process the signals. His restricted breathing caused any possible cry of pain to be trapped in his throat.

The sound must have been audible to the others – a concerned expression flashing across Geoff’s face. Instantly flipping the switch into ‘leader’ position, he glanced over his shoulder before planting both tattooed hands on either side of Michael’s head and pushing up, the rest of the guys sliding effortlessly off his back. Geoff rolled off as well, looking around.

It was evident they were uncertain as to where that sound had come from, but a few furtive glances from Jack and Ray told Michael the two were fairly sure but not positive it was him. To clear up the worry that he hated so much to see, Michael laughed shakily as an odd numbing sensation coursing through the right side of his body.

“Cracked my fucking back, did you hear that?” he said, rubbing his lower back for emphasis.

“That was your back?” Ray said, looking surprised but relieved. “Geez.”

“Are you alright, Michael?” Gavin asked, sharp eyes closely watching his tentative movements, staring at his right arm, reflexively curled tight against his right ribcage.

He extended his arm to falsely prove that he was fine, an odd grinding feeling stemming from his ribs. “I’m fine,” he said nonchalantly. He sighed in relief when everyone seemed to accept his words.

“Aright, idiots,” Geoff said, stretching as he stood. He helped Ryan and Ray to their feet. “Back to work. It’s almost lunch and I want to film that Fuel let’s play first so we can just go home.”

—-

It was just Michael’s luck that his boys were feeling frisky that night. Maybe it was his fault by causing the testosterone-fueled love pile earlier, but he didn’t feel he deserved  _this._

The pain was long-ago dulled by the handful of pain relievers he’d downed during lunch, but even the medicine couldn’t stop the surge of agony that accompanied Ryan’s sensual touches to his body, his usually soft and gentle hands resembling sandpaper against an open wound, the skin under his shirt raw and tender.

Michael pulled out of Ryan’s embrace with teary eyes, the pain having caused moisture to build up. He kept his head down to avoid Ryan’s questioning gaze.

“I’m sorry… I… I don’t feel well. I feel weird,” Michael said truthfully. His head felt disconnected from his body, thoughts like a slimy dribble between the cracks in his mind. He was dimly aware of Ryan’s hands delicately sliding down the back of his arms to hold his wrists in a calming matter that they knew often relaxed Michael. Now, however, it just made him feel a little claustrophobic.

“Are you sick?” Ray asked, having overheard Michael’s soft-spoken apology. He disentangled himself from Jack and Gavin, reaching over to brush Michael’s curls back, holding a warm hand to his forehead.

“Again?” Gavin said doubtfully. He was still locked in an intimate cradle with Jack, but both men were looking at them curiously. “It’s barely been a week!”

“He doesn’t feel warm,” Ray announced, running a hand through Michael’s hair. Michael barely felt it, but his heart warmed nonetheless at the love in Ray’s dark eyes.

“Just having an off night is all,” Michael said before completely pulling away. He slid off the bed, socked feet padding quietly against the floor. “I’ll go get some water. I’m probably just tired.”

He practically ran from the room, clenching his teeth and clutching at his side. After locking himself in the bathroom, he faced the mirror, frowning at his paled face, and pulled up his shirt, gasping aloud.

He knew it wasn’t good, but he wasn’t expecting the vast bruising blooming across his right side. Blood hadn’t broken the surface, but he could see little bubbles of the crimson liquid just under a thin layer of skin. It was focused on one particular spot, where it hurt the most. The colors ranged from a dark red, almost black in the middle to a purplish blue until it faded back into his pale skin.

Running clammy fingers against the swollen flesh, he flinched not only at the sting of contact, but also at the warmth emanating from the area. It was burning hot to the touch.

Feeling dizzy, Michael lowered his shirt and just stared at his gaunt reflection for a long while. The pain killers were wearing off, his ribs beginning to ache with every breath. His arm was barely movable.

A knock on the door made him jump.

“Michael?” Geoff’s big-boy voice said through the door. Michael frowned. Someone must’ve told him, because he sounded like he was talking to a terminal patient, or a wild animal. “Are you in there?”

“Yeah,” Michael whispered almost inaudibly. He cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said louder. “Just finishing up.”

“You doing okay?”

Michael opened the door and gave Geoff what he hoped was a convincing smile. “Yeah, Geoffers. Just tired. Did you need to use the bathroom?”

Geoff glanced into the small space behind them, gray eyes seeming to vigorously sweep the room for any signs of what was wrong with his boyfriend, but upon finding nothing, he met eyes with Michael, seeming to conduct another search there instead. “No, just making sure you weren’t dying in there.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily, boss,” Michael joked, carefully bending foreward to share a kiss with the older man. Geoff cupped his jaw in a big hand and deepened their connection briefly before regretfully pulling away, giving Michael a lasting lick on the lips.

The redhead smiled, knees weak. He loved kissing Geoff – the older man always put all of his heart in it, managing to smother him in compassion and love, just by a kiss. It often left Michael’s headspinning. Now it had him almost light-headed. Or maybe that was the pills.

“I hope you feel better,” Geoff said ruffling the younger’s hair. “Wake me up if you need anything.” Michael nodded at the firm order, knowing that Geoff personally would like to be waked. He and Ray were often the two most naturally inclined to babying their lovers, especially when sick. “Come to bed soon,” Geoff ordered with searching eyes, squeezing his hand and letting go.

“Okay, thanks, Geoff,” Michael said meekly, watching his boss walk down the hallway and disappear into the bedroom. He ached to go after him, to show him just  _how much_ Michael appreciated him, but the ache building up in his side was much more persuasive.

The kitchen was now empty, Geoff having probably just finished up doing dinner’s dishes. Flicking on the lights, he buried through their pillbox before finally fishing out a large bottle of painkillers. He closed the pill cabinet firmly and dry swallowed four of the little fuckers, waiting anxiously for the relieving effects to take place.

Slowly put surely, the searing agony faded away, leaving his side feeling cold and blissfully numb.

His entire body felt the effects, but his mind took the worst hit. Dizziness muddled his equilibrium and black spots filled his vision. He tripped and stumbled his way to the living room, aiming for the couch. Miraculously, he managed to pass out where his body would fall onto the sofa safely.

The black spots finally overtook his vision as his head hit the cushion.

—-

It felt like an eternity until he woke up, his eyes and mouth uncomfortably dry. Blearily, he looked at the clock mounted on the far wall and thanked his lucky stars.

7:05 – five minutes before their alarm clock went off for work.

He pushed himself up, grimacing at the awkward position he’d been resting in, but happily surprised that he was virtually pain-free. His right arm wouldn’t cooperate much, but he was able to stand properly without hunching in on his right side, like he’d been doing all yesterday. To make sure that the result stayed, he swallowed a few more pills before cleaning up the couch.

Creeping into the bedroom was tricky, as Ray and Ryan were notoriously light sleepers, but he successfully snuck in under the covers without waking anyone. He snuggled into the warmth that instantly surrounded him, the pile of bodies like a furnace under the sheets.

He had about three minutes to enjoy the cuddles with his sleepy boys before the loud beeping of the alarm clock started. Geoff predictably hit the snooze button before the first beep even finished, tattooed arms curling back around Gavin and Jack and pulling them close in his sleep. Ray mumbled and burrowed further into Geoff’s back, while Ryan hummed, head fitting nicely into the space between Ray’s neck and shoulder.

Michael could seriously never ask for a more loving group of partners.

He kept himself distant from the rest, despite how much his body craved the cuddles happening right next to him. But he couldn’t risk having Ryan turn in his sleep to clutch at him, as the bigger man often did. So instead Michael laid along the side of the bed, just centimeters from falling off. He didn’t even bother to try and snag any more few minutes of sleep, content with just watching the loves of his life rest up, their eyelashes occasionally fluttering or mouths’ twitching.

The third time the alarm went off was the last. Geoff grumbled to himself, but obliged the annoying device, turning off the sound and stretching. Michael watched him through half-closed eyes as Geoff sat up, a soft smile gracing his lips as he placed firm kissing to each one of their head’s, waking them up in what Michael knew was the most pleasant way ever. Geoff’s lips were soft as they pressed against his temple. Michael relished the feeling before allowing his eyes to open fully. He faked a yawn as he sat up.

The normal morning greetings commenced, some more touchy-feely than others, but Michael couldn’t help being the first off the bed. Forgoing his normal morning stretch, he plodded down the hallway, feeling a little guilty about his deceit.

As he poured six glasses of various beverages, he thought about perhaps telling Geoff. Though Michael didn’t think he needed medical attention, he wasn’t sure how long until the bruising would fade, and he couldn’t get out of not being seen naked for that long. Thankfully his curly hair didn’t need to be washed everyday, and he could skip a shower today, but tomorrow would be another story.

He couldn’t tell Geoff, though. Not only would the older man be angry with him for not immediately telling him, he would most definitely tell the others. No more wrestling. No more rough handling. No more sexy times for a while.

Michael strived on all of those things. He was a very active, excitable, and sex-hungry guy, something the others usually took full advantage of, but if they learned he broke so fucking  _easily_ under their touch, they would never treat him the same. They thought he was unbreakable. Michael didn’t want them to think otherwise.

He jumped out of his skin and split orange juice everywhere when a pair of arms curled around his shoulders. The familiar scent told him it was Jack, and the beard tickling the back of his neck told him it was  _definitely_ Jack.

“Sorry,” Jack murmured, not sounding particularly apologetic as he kissed the top of Michael’s head. His warm lips moved down to press against the spot just behind his ear, sending a pleasant shiver down Michael’s back.

“Good morning, you lug,” Michael laughed, leaning forward to pull some paper towels from the rack and wiping up the puddle of juice. “Here,” Michael said, pushing a large glass of milk into Jack’s hands.

“Thanks,” Jack bubbled, already taking a sip. He moved out of the way of Ryan, who was looking absurdly adorable with his bed-head and squinty eyes. Despite his grouch face, he kissed Michael’s forehead, muttered a thanks, and took his pre-poured glass of orange juice.

Gavin strolled into the kitchen with a grin, his hair a mess but looking fully rested and wide awake. He planted a firm kiss on Michael’s mouth, tongue teasingly tracing his lower lip before pulling away to grab his glass and have a seat at the table. Michael smirked at him.

Everyone else trailed in at their own pace, Geoff predictably coming last to grab his cup of coffee. He gave Michael a rather strong-tasting coffee kiss, but it was worth the thankful look in the older man’s eyes. Ray was lounging on the sofa, clicking through morning cartoons, and Ryan was now looking considerably cheerier, smiling as he talked with Gavin on the loveseat. The two were debatably the most clingy when it came to physical contact and often loved to curl up together somewhere when they found themselves alone, content with just soaking up the mutual love of touch. It was a cute sight to Michael, who was a little uncomfortable sometimes with physical contact such as that, but he sure loved to see everyone getting along. He wasn’t really sure how he’d managed to get so lucky; he not only found himself with a single lover, but five of them, who knew him inside and out and loved him for every bit of it.

“Michael?” a voice next to him asked. He didn’t startle this time, only looking at Ray with mild alarm.

“Huh?” Michael stammered, realizing that Ray had already tried to get his attention before. “Sorry, I was thinking about something.”

Ray frowned. “Still feeling off?”

“Sorta,” Michael said dismissively, not liking the way Ray’s eyes narrowed. He cursed himself for forgetting who he was talking to. Ray was a fucking lie detector and mother hen. If something was wrong, he’d sniff it out like a hound dog.

Michael backtracked. “Not really. I’m still just tired. This damn cold must be lagging a bit,” he explained, rolling his eyes. He almost spat a cuss word when the motion caused a headache to pound right behind his eyes.

“Would you like some Tylenol?” Ray offered sympathetically, and while he didn’t looked entirely convinced, he seemed to realize that Michael did indeed feel shitty.

“Already took some,” Michael said. “Just rolled out of bed with it. Should go away in an hour or two.”

“Right,” Ray said uneasily.

“You think too much, you worry-wart,” Michael scolded, flicking him on the nose before placing a much nicer kiss on his lips. Ray still looked disgruntled, but he was smiling as he pulled Michael back in for another one, this kiss slower and tasting slightly of the orange juice Ray had been drinking.

Ray was the one to release him this time, pulling away with a smug grin when Michael followed slightly. The redhead huffed but let go as Ray went to take a shower. Geoff, whose hair was still wet, was yelling something about time management skills to him as he left, waving the rolled up newspaper at him threateningly. He twapped him on the butt with it, and the two disappeared down the hall arguing half-heartedly.

The average Achievement Hunter morning was one that Michael never wanted to miss out on.

—-

It was halfway to the office, and Michael was beginning to sweat.

His right side felt like it was rotting away from the inside out, the flesh covering his ribs uncomfortably hot against his arm. The fabric of his shirt was vicious and unforgiving on the wound, every press and flutter sending his breath hitching and muscles tightening. He’d luckily been granted passenger seat for the short trip, but after Geoff had yelled at him to pull on his damn seatbelt, the ride was suddenly filled with nausea and silent whimpers. The pain pills were wearing off and he couldn’t just pop open the bottle and take a swallow while sitting right next to Geoff, who was side-eyeing him a tad suspiciously. It was probably because Michael had yet to speak during the entire car ride.

He couldn’t even bring himself to talk when they got unlocked the door to the office, mouth tightly sealed shut. Afraid that his voice would waver or tremble, he was careful not to reply verbally to any of Ray or Gavin’s jabs, instead smacking one of them on the arm or back of the head, or sending them a heated glare. It may’ve not have had the same affect, but it was better than the steely silence that coated the car when Michael didn’t respond at all. Plus it got some of the heat off his back.

He relaxed into his desk chair feeling much calmer. While the others were settling in and turning their computers on, he slipped a handful of tablets into his mouth and swallowed them down with a Gatorade he’d left there the day before. He turned on his computer but left the TV off.

He got the feeling someone was staring at him and realized Gavin had been boring a hole into the side of his head. He looked at the Brit. “What?”

“Turn on your TV,” Gavin said, sitting down and putting his headphones on. “We’re going to test something in GTA to see if it’ll be a useable Things To Do In.”

Michael opened his mouth to stubbornly raise a stink, but closed it after better thought. He violently pressed the on button and breathed heavily through his nose to try and calm his speeding heart. With every pump, he could feel the bloody pulse around the injured rib, the discomfort raising the little hairs on the backs of Michael’s arms.

During the recording, he was a little down-trodden but clicked the capture off when they were done with a good feeling. He was pretty sure he’d done alright at putting on at least a half-pleasant face. He was beginning to feel terrible once again, despite the pain killers.

Geoff and Gavin were in unfortunately frisky moods today, and not even the good kind. As Geoff took a rather important phone call, Gavin would attempt to splash water at the older man, giggling madly at the look Geoff would send him. Finally Geoff would just pick up his own glass of water – technically Ray’s – and splash him back until the two were caught in a standoff, both glasses held high in the air as the two walked in a slow, cautious circle.

Michael took no part in the games today, which he was sure everyone noticed. Thankfully they seemed to attribute it to him simply not feeling well, though that alone was beginning to make him feel guilty. He’d already been ‘not feeling well’ for weeks before this, and he seemed oddly susceptible to colds and flues, while none of the others ever seemed to be sick. He was beginning to feel like a constant downer, or a constant problem. He couldn’t wait for this to go away so he could go back to normal.

They didn’t film any Let’s Plays today, something Michael silently thanked Geoff for. He was unsure if Geoff was purposefully keeping their schedule pretty light, but he was glad to not have to worry about keeping up a steady, two-hour long conversation with five other guys.

Until Gavin fucked it up. Predictably.

Gavin kept glancing at the time on his watch before finally getting Michael’s attention. “Michael?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s almost one, aren’t you going to do Rage Quit?”

Michael’s eyes widened as he stared at the screen, air catching in his throat. He looked at Gavin, horrified.

The other man mistook his reaction as his normal hatred for doing the required weekly video and grinned. “You forgot it was Thursday,” he said knowingly.

“Fuck,” Michael said, drawing it out. He leaned his forehead on the cool wood of his desk, grumbling under his breath. He didn’t know if he even had it in him to yell right now. If all he needed was a few angry shouts, maybe he could get away with a short, three-minute video.

Ray patted him on the back as he got up from his chair. “How about this, we all take a lunch break while Michael records real quick so he can get it out of the way?”

“That’s a great idea,” Jack said, sliding his headphones off.

“I don’t think I’d be able to listen to Michael yell and scream for twenty minutes,” Geoff agreed. He smiled at Michael, however, and no malice or meanness was in the older man’s gaze. “We’ll let you record in peace. Remember, it’s that shitty show that you got your job with.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Michael muttered sourly, watching his coworkers and lovers leave without him. Gavin gave him a peck on the cheek before he left and waved as he left.

Ray shut the door with an almost inaudible, “I love you.”

It was rare the boys said the phrase. Maybe it was just because they were all males, but emotion didn’t come as easily to them as sexual or general sweet gestures did. Michael knew it was hard for Ray to say the words unironically, so he started up the recording feeling oddly empowered by Ray’s encouragement.

Halfway into the ten minute recording and Michael’s screams started to drift towards a more personal tune. He yelled out his frustration in angry ‘ _Fuck’_ s and exaggerated ‘ _Goddammit_ ’s. Actual anger fueled his efforts in some random arcade game someone suggested in the comments of his latest Rage Quit, and though he had started out with derogatory comments and snide criticisms, his fury started to become real.

When his character was impaled on a pole at the bottom of the screen, he was almost unaware of his legs shooting out from under him, standing up from his chair so quickly that it rocketed back and hit the desk behind him. He slammed a hand down on the desk, the impact shaking some ornaments off Ray’s desk, and giving a shout so furiously that he thought he could feel his face heat up from the intensity.

It was after he drew another breath that he realized something was wrong. The air wouldn’t go down right, feeling tight and stuck halfway down his windpipe, only a small stream of oxygen managing to slip by. He threw his headphones off, his hand coming up to press against his chest like it would alleviate the sudden discomfort. He sucked in another thin stream of air, panic beginning to elevate his heartbeat. His fingers went numb. Lips tingled.

He stumbled around the room for a long minute, weakly trying to inhale. It was working – sort of. After enough tries, he could get a good mouthful of fresh air, but a taste was beginning to settle on his tongue. Coppery, metallic, until finally he hacked up a spurt of red.

_My lung, my lung._

He couldn’t get enough air in to call for help, and his fingers weren’t working. He fell to his knees in the middle of the office, grasping at his throat in an attempt to pry off the imaginary hands that were squeezing his neck. His side was burning with every gasp, the pain so intense that he couldn’t understand how he wasn’t passing out by now. He closed his eyes.

_Please let me pass out by now._

The imaginary hands moved, but the chokehold remained. Hands swept his aside, another pair laying him on his back. A pair of fingers was held to his pulse point, and something was pulling his shirt up. He couldn’t hear through the blood rushing in his ears, but through the static there was distant chatter, words he didn’t really care about at the moment.

It was only when he felt fingers weave through his and grip his hand in strong reassurance did he realize that it wasn’t his imagination.

Sound suddenly erupted in his ears.

“His lips are turning blue,” Gavin’s panicked voice was yelling. Michael could feel fingers up against his mouth. “He’s not getting oxygen!”

“He’s –”

Michael croaked loudly when hands were suddenly pressing against his injured ribs, his eyes peeling open in panic at the sudden wave of agony that ripped through his nerves. His fingers trembled. “Stop,” he rasped, barely getting the words out.

“Michael, can you hear me?” Geoff’s authoritative voice was clear through the muddled fog in the redhead’s brain. Of course he could hear him.

Michael nodded best he could through his gravelly breathing. Each breathe was hoarse and rough, but he was able to move again.

“Do you understand what I’m saying? Do the words make sense?”

Michael thought it was an odd and sort of dumb question, but he nodded regardless. His eyes rolled around the room to search for whoever was holding his hand. It was Ryan, who must’ve heard the commotion and come into from the warehouse. He squeezed his hand the best he could as a sign of thanks – the hand in his was acting as an anchor for Michael’s confused mind. He wasn’t sure if Ryan squeezed back.

His vision went black suddenly, and he choked in panic, a bubbly liquid gurgling in the back of his throat. His sight cleared when Geoff slapped him on cheek, and Michael’s eyes pinwheeled to look at the older man.

“Focus, Michael,” Geoff said sternly, but Michael could see the fucking fear in his eyes. “The ambulance is on their way. Don’t pass out on us.”

“Sorry,” Michael wheezed. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Shush,” Ray said, tapping him on the forehead. “Stop wasting your breath. You have a lot of explaining to do before we even want to hear an ‘I’m sorry’.”

“But before the explaining, we all want you to get better,” Jack said soothingly, petting his hair.

Michael could see the others nodding in agreement. His face felt cold, and his lips were like ice.

“Sorry,” he murmured again when the EMT’s arrived. They had to pry Gavin away from him. The others backed off on their own accord, but Ray had tears down his cheeks and Jack’s beard was trembling.

They wouldn’t let them ride in the ambulance with him.

—-

He came to because the hand in his wouldn’t stop moving.

He peaked open an eye to glare down at the offending appendage, recognizing the long, thin fingers as Gavin’s. He followed the trail up his arm until he was looking into his boyfriend’s hazel eyes, the shiny orbs seeming to burn a hole through his head.

“Hi,” Michael breathed.

He was met with a slap to the face, but not from Gavin.

Staring in shock, Michael reached his left hand up to touch the stinging flesh, mouth hanging open but snapping closed when he caught sight of the tears streaking down Ray’s cheeks. He was the one who’d slapped him, which Michael could definitely believe. Ray had slapped him once before, for jumping off the top of the RoosterTeeth building for an RT Life. He’d ended up with a simple sprained ankle, but both Ray and Jack had wanted to strangle him.

Ray looked more upset now than he had been then, however. His anger, at least, seemed to lessen the moment he’d slapped Michael, and he rushed forward to throw his arms around the redhead. Michael uneasily hugged back, with his one arm. The other was still attached to Gavin, who was refusing to let go no matter how strong he tugged, which probably wasn’t that strong since it was in a sling.

“I hate you sometimes,” Gavin whispered to him when Ray pulled back. Ray seemed to share the sentiment as he wordlessly wiped the moisture from his eyes, glaring at Michael.

“I could throttle you right now,” Ray threatened, but his voice wobbled with what Michael recognized as relief. He gave a weak laugh.

“I can do you one better,” said a voice in the doorway. Geoff took a step into the room. “I could kill him.”

Michael swallowed heavily. Judging by the look in Geoff’s eyes, he might actually murder the redhead. Jack and Ryan were hovering behind him, arms crossed and glowering.

“Let’s not let him off so easily,” Ryan intoned. “Torture seems like a good option.”

“How about this,” Jack offered. He uncrossed an arm to gesture angrily at Michael as if he were an ugly painting on the wall. “We make him watch as one of  _us_  suffocates slowly on the floor of the office.”

Michael cringed at the crack in Jack’s voice. He could see the other man’s eyes watering, but no tears fell.

Michael took an experimental deep breath, satisfaction seeming to warm his blood as he found he could now take in as much air as he wanted. His chest ached dully and a stinging sensation made him wince, but he could  _breathe_ again. He felt like crying.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized as soon as he could. His voice was throaty and haggard. At the unimpressed glances that were shared amongst the men, Michael said, “I really am sorry.”

“We believe you,” Ryan said, and the others nodded.

“But remember what I said? While you were  _dying in my lap_?” Ray asked viciously. “I said we want an explanation. Not apologies.”

“We want those later,” Ryan added.

Michael bit his lip, breathing slowly. He savored each intake of air, the feeling of oxygen actually reaching and filling his lungs a newly appreciated luxury. It was suddenly as if he hadn’t been breathing right since he first hurt his ribs.

Unsure of where exactly to start, Michael breathed, “Explanation… of what?”

Ray looked angry. “Of why you’re so stupid,” he said harshly.

“Of why you’re such an inconsiderate pleb,” Gavin said, less angry but still looking hurt and sliding his hand out of Michael’s. Michael’s heart ached a little at the wounded look on his lovers’ faces.

“Selfish reasons,” he admitted with a rasp.

Geoff sighed, seeming to take pity on him. He looked at Ray and Gavin. “How about we leave the interrogation to when he can actually speak in full sentences, guys. It’ll take four hours for just one answer.”

Neither of the lads seemed happy with this, but they nodded solemnly. Gavin picked up Michael’s hand again and stroked the back of his hand with his thumb. Michael sent Geoff a grateful look, but Geoff didn’t seem to be done with him.

“Broken ribs.  _Broken_ ribs. I’m sure that dumbfuck mind of yours thought it wasn’t anything too bad, maybe a small crack or maybe you were even stupid enough to believe it was just bruised. For all the time you spend on the damn internet, you’d think you would know what a fucking broken bone looks and feels like,” Geoff said in a venomous voice. Michael’s heartbeat accelerated.

“I don’t know what could have possibly possessed you to think that doing a Rage Quit in that condition was a good idea,” Geoff went on, controlling his anger after a quick glance at the heart monitor. “Forgetting momentarily that you completely ‘forgot’ to tell your boyfriends, your fucking _family_  that you were hurt and needed to go to the hospital, you put yourself in further danger by parading around with an injury that could’ve killed you. I don’t know what possessed you to do it, bravado or pride or whatever dumb fucking reason, but if it happens again, I will personally give you a medical once over every night before bed.”

Geoff had to take a deep breath the calm himself. He stared into Michael’s widened eyes. “I love you,” he said firmly. The heart monitor skipped a beat. “But I don’t trust you anymore.”

The words stung. Michael’s eyes prickled and he had to rapidly blink away the tears, but he nodded and lowered his head. It was understandable. He’d acted irresponsibly and similar to a child. He couldn’t properly take care of himself. Maybe it was a good thing Geoff didn’t trust him.

The stared at the bedspread in silence, startling when arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug, his face smushed up against someone’s chest. He inhaled deeply, sighing into the familiar scent – Ryan.

The words were spoken into his hair. “We’ll be watching you a lot closer.”

Michael gave a weak laugh at the threatening, but love-filled comment, and knowing his voice would come out shaky, he settled with just hugging back.

Jack was next, his big burly arms enveloping the smaller man into a hug so gentle; it was as if a bear were holding a glass china doll. “I’m glad you’re okay,” the older man said into Michael’s hospital gown. Michael grinned. Jack was never very good at staying angry.

Jack let go and stepped back, him and Ryan relaxing into one of the five hospital chairs circled around the bed. Michael nervously twisted his hands in the bedspread as everyone sat down, acutely aware that he was literally the center of attention. He fiddled with the IV stuck in his arm, and touched the little nasal breathing tube stuck up his nose.

“So do you think the audience will believe that Rage Quit blew out a lung while yelling?” Gavin questioned aloud.

And with all of them laughing together, it was almost as if they were back at home. As far as Michael was concerned, wherever his family was, that  _was_ home.

Even if they were mad at him.


End file.
